Driving by David Traynor's quarter-acre lot in rural Manchester, you can see 700 square feet in vegetable gardens watered by a tower of rain barrels reaching up to his roof. That roof, covered in solar panels, shelters a historic red brick schoolhouse. On first glance, you might think the building houses a candidate for Carroll County's greenest citizen.

But Traynor doesn't see himself that way, and wouldn't even use the term "environmentalist" to describe himself.

"I'm more of a pragmatist," the 40-year-old warehouse manager said. "I just wanted to live the most deliberate life possible, where I have something to do with my day-to-day life. I just want to live a little more appreciatively."

Ten years ago when Traynor purchased his 1900 home that was originally built as the Mount Ventus one-room schoolhouse, it was because he thought the rural home and property would be a good place for him to write and paint.

The structure had been renovated by previous owners and had served as a home longer than it had as a school by the time he bought it, he said. But he still wanted to put his personal touch on his artist's cove.

He ripped out the new floors that previous owners had put down on top of the original hardwood — probably to level them — tore down some walls to open up the first and second floors, and made a large easel to hold the even larger canvases he would paint in his studio area.

"I wanted to do some painting, but the house ended up being more of an art project," Traynor said.

Beyond the property becoming a home renovation effort, Traynor said his life evolved, as he took advantage of his quarter-acre lot and became something of a modern day homesteader in the outskirts of Manchester, less than a quarter-mile from the Pennsylvania border.

Traynor said he enjoys working with his hands and doing things for himself. So when it came time to do the work on his home or build canvases to paint, he decided he needed a woodshop, and converted the free-standing garage into one. Over time he built up his collection of tools, some of them received from other people, some that he built himself, like a grinding wheel he made from a treadle stone that he found in his grandparents' yard.

"It's a throw-away society, everyone has two of everything," he said.

He found that often when he mentioned he had a need for a specific tool or part, someone would come forward and offer him their extra.

Traynor cut down some trees on his property, had them milled into boards and then used them to create raised beds for vegetable gardening. It took him a few years to learn what works and what doesn't, he said, and even now, some things, like peas, don't prosper the way he wishes they would.

"I've got a few hobbies, which are splitting wood and making soil," Traynor said. "I've been working on [my soil] for five years."

One of his larger beds sits where the property previously had a shed, he said, but he decided to tear it down so he could have a better view of the hills across the field to the south. He made it a garden area instead. The shed soil was rocky and compacted, but by adding fresh topsoil, peat and a steady addition of homemade compost, the soil has greatly improved, and he now produces more vegetables than he can consume.

Some of those vegetables get canned, and are stored in Traynor's dirt basement, which stays a cool 53 degrees year-round. And part of his harvest is diminished by the three free-range chickens he keeps to produce eggs.

"Two a day, every day," he said of the hens' predictable production.

The chicken litter gets added to his compost, he said, which makes up for the fact that the birds sometimes nip the blossoms off his plants, such as the broccoli that is doing poorly this year.

Next to his front garden, Traynor built a tower of four rain barrels that capture rainwater from his roof and store it — up to 200 gallons at a time — until he uses it to water his garden. This takes some pressure off of his well, he said, and reduces runoff caused by the downspouts.

About two years ago, Traynor contracted with SolarCity to install solar panels on his roof. The company still owns the panels, he said, and he didn't have to buy the panels or pay for installation. The company calculated the cost of maximum amount of electricity he would use in the winter, which is $60, and charges him that much every month to provide him power from the panels on his roof. If he uses less than that, he receives a refund check, minus some fees associated with being connected to the electrical grid so that he can give and take power.

"One of these days I'm going to have to sit down and do all the math," he said with a laugh, to see how his electric bills now compare to what they were before the solar panels.

Regardless of the numbers, it feels like the right thing to do, he said. He believes in conserving resources, much the way his grandparents' generation operated.

"I'm trying to minimize my impact the best I can, to leave a small footprint," he said.

Traynor said he believes people were happier when they lived on smaller farms and in smaller communities where everyone had a skill or trade that benefited the rest of the community. Food and goods were produced locally, and people had closer relationships with who and where their goods came from.

"I like progress; progress is great, but I think at some point we should have left well enough alone," he said.

As much as Traynor enjoys working on his house, building projects and farming, he still works a full-time job to help pay the bills.

"You're part of the system, and everybody has to be part of the system some way or another, but it's not exactly for filling my deeper wants and needs as far as how I choose to live my life," he said.

While some people might think he's crazy for spending all of his free time chopping and stacking wood — since the woodstove is the schoolhouse's only source of heat — or wanting to take blacksmithing lessons so he can forge his own tools, Traynor said this is the right fit for him.

"This is a reaction of seeing a world of constant excess and rabid consumption, and people just not living consciously anymore, because they're not attached to how things get to the table," he said. "Most people see this as work, but really, it's fun."

Traynor said his friends are used to his lifestyle, and every now and then he will meet someone new who shares his ideals and is doing his or her part to live consciously. He's not trying to convert anyone to his lifestyle, he said, but he believes it is a more enjoyable and rewarding way to live.

"It's going back to Walden," Traynor said, referring to Henry David Thoreau's classic book published in 1854 about the author's attempt to live self-sufficiently in-tune with nature. "Living simple."